


Debriefing

by st_mick



Series: Niffler [37]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Torchwood
Genre: Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Episode AU: s01e04 Cyberwoman, Suicidal Ianto, Wizard Ianto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-07 23:24:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20825546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/st_mick/pseuds/st_mick
Summary: As Jack and Owen head back to the hub, Ianto's friends take care of him.  In the afternoon, Kingsley shows up to debrief Ianto.





	Debriefing

When Jack and Owen returned to the hub, Gwen confronted Jack. “You didn’t get any of their names,” she said.

“They all introduced themselves,” Jack replied, not really paying attention.

“Well, I think we should check them out,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest in what Jack had come to think of as her “bulldog” pose.

“Why?” Owen asked. “Clearly they’re just old school mates, all very close to Ianto, and they’re willing to watch over him.”

“But what if they’re dangerous? What if…”

Owen laughed. “What, you think that because they care about Tea Boy they’ll have it in for us? You heard Jack give them the cover story. They didn’t know what he was up to.”

Gwen huffed. “But Jack,” she tried again.

“Leave it,” Jack said, just as a rift alert sounded. He sent Gwen and Owen out on a retrieval and walked up to Toshiko’s desk. He stood for a few minutes with a hand on her shoulder as they watched Ianto’s friends mill around his flat, talking to one another and taking turns sitting beside him. 

“He never even properly unpacked,” Tosh muttered, her drooping posture showing how badly she felt about how they had handled things. “Do you think,” she sniffed. “Do you think he was worried it wouldn’t work?”

Jack pulled her close in a one-armed hug. “I have no doubt that he was willing to die to try to save her, but I don’t think he could allow himself to consider what might happen if he couldn’t.” He nodded towards the screen, which showed that Ianto was still folded in on himself on the sofa. “That’s why he’s reeling. This was the outcome he had no contingency for. Now he’s got to face it all.”

“I did try to group their names together, to see if I could get a hit,” she confessed. “They’re not even coming up on facial recognition.”

“What, none of them?” Jack asked, surprised. “That mouthy one is Irish. You should have something on him, at least, for travel.”

Tosh shook her head. “I don’t want to dig further, Jack. I only did a preliminary search to get Gwen to back off, and then I ran the facial rec because I was curious. But… Look at them. You can tell some of them have been around the block, but look at them, with him.”

Jack gave a small smile. “Yeah. They called him family. They’ve all been through something together, and I don’t think it’s just school.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. None of them are military, but they all act like…” he frowned. “They’re tight, like a squad of soldiers that’s been battle tested would be.” He sighed. “That makes no sense. I mean,” he gestured towards the screen, “look at them!”

The group was sitting on blankets and pillows, speaking quietly, all of them with at least one eye on their friend. They looked harmless enough, but there was a steel beneath each of them that Jack could not account for. He could not escape the notion that they had all seen combat, somehow. 

It now occurred to him that he’d had that same impression of Ianto, at times. He had attributed it to surviving Canary Wharf, but what if Owen had been on to something? What if Ianto had already been through something, even before Canary Wharf?

Jack shook his head, to clear it. He hated the thought. And Ianto was far too young to have faced something like that, as a civilian. It was probably just some crazy boarding school bonding thing.

***

Luna and Hermione eventually coaxed Ianto into having a bit more tea and toast. He didn’t eat any more than before, but at least he kept it down, this time. He did not speak, and accepted the comfort his friends offered.

It was early afternoon when Hermione proposed some fresh air. When Ianto balked, she said, “Well, how about the roof? You can have some air without having to deal with more people.” Her look was so full of meaning that even in his shock and bereavement he knew that Kingsley was up there, wanting to conduct his debriefing.

From the hub, Jack wondered why the prospect of some fresh air made Ianto’s shoulders slump in defeat – something he wouldn’t have thought possible, given how thoroughly beaten down the younger man already looked.

Ianto headed for the door, not even bothering with shoes, with Harry, Ron, and Hermione following. When they got to the roof of the ten-story building, Ianto flinched away from the sunshine before seeing that the area had been transformed. Verdant grass covered the surface, and wildflowers grew with rampant abandon. A tree stood strategically, not tall enough to be seen from ground-level, but the perfect height to provide shade for the five squashy, comfortable looking armchairs that were grouped under it.

Kingsley stood from his chair and approached. Ianto merely watched him draw near with no discernable expression on his face. “Ianto, I am sorry for your loss,” the minister said, embracing the younger man. Ianto leaned in to the comfort of his friend, not having the wherewithal to resent his boss for refusing to help him when he had most needed it. 

After all, there was rather a lot of that, going around.

For his part, the minister had expected anger or resentment, but as he stood away from Ianto, he could not help but wish for that rather than the broken apathy he was seeing. It was telling for all of them to witness that there was a weary indifference rather than defiance (Ianto’s issue with authority would normally have had him resenting the hell out of a debriefing when he was clearly in no shape for one).

“Have a seat, Ianto, and tell us what happened,” Kingsley gestured to one of the chairs and sat in one, himself. 

As Ianto approached the chairs, a small, feathered something fell from the branch of the tree. By reflex he threw out an arm, and Cerridwen landed there. He drew her close to his body, and the others gaped as she spread her wings out and wrapped them as far around him as they would reach. He sniffed at the display of support and affection, and stroked her head until, a few moments later, she released him and flew back up into the tree.

He watched her settle for a moment, and then sat rigidly on the edge of the seat. In a hollow monotone he slowly spoke of how he’d found Lisa at the end of the battle. How he had used a teleportation device in the bowels of the archives to get her to one of Torchwood’s old warehouses on the outskirts of London. How he had used the same device to transport a conversion unit, hospital equipment, and as many drugs as he could manage before the presence of personnel from UNIT and Torchwood Two and Three made the tower too dangerous for him to risk continuing.

He described transporting Lisa to Cardiff via a rented lorry after finding another warehouse, and then his campaign to get a job with Torchwood Three. He had already studied the place while back in London, curious about a branch of Torchwood that had been practically in his back yard as he grew up. 

No one from the area was blind to the strange things that happened in Cardiff, and everyone knew that Torchwood were a bunch of plonkers who stomped around like they owned the place, but that they were useful, after a fashion. Which perhaps justified the stomping, a bit.

Didn’t mean any self-respecting Welshman (or woman) had to like them, though.

So out of curiosity, Ianto had read up on Torchwood Three. He knew a great deal more about Jack Harkness and the hub than anyone would be comfortable realizing. And he had used that knowledge, knowing that the lower levels of the hub could effectively conceal Lisa as he searched for a cure.

“She was still Lisa,” he swore, his voice finally taking on a bit of emotion. “You have to believe me, Sir. I used legilimency. Every day. She was keeping the cyber-tech at bay.”

From the time he had begun to learn about being a Legilimens and Occlumens, Ianto had realized it was the one thing he seemed to be able to do without his wand. It had not been a secret, and the Ministry had often used the skill to their advantage. 

“I believe you, Ianto,” Kingsley quietly assured him. It was the truth. Ianto was too much of a wreck to use his occlumency to hide anything from Kingsley. He could tell Ianto was speaking the truth; he had not been deluding himself, and he had not been manipulated by the alien. 

That somehow made it all the more tragic.

Ianto continued to speak, his voice falling back into the droning, lifeless tone that was so out of character. He told them of finding Dr. Tanizaki, and of his misgivings when the scientist pawed at Lisa like an inanimate object with breasts. His trust had wavered, but when she was breathing on her own again, he’d rejoiced.

Then it all came crashing down, and Ianto’s panic and denial had only made it worse. The young wizard was well aware of all the ways he had erred. Hermione conjured a bucket and he had to take several deep breaths to steady himself when he described how the cybernetic creature that had taken Lisa had transplanted her brain into the head of the pizza delivery girl. 

“She… It… had Lisa’s memories. Spoke with Lisa’s timbre and cadence and accent. I didn’t understand it, what it had done. I knew it wasn’t Lisa, but I had to understand.” He looked at Kingsley desperately.

The older wizard nodded for him to continue, dreading hearing more.

“I used legilimency again.” This time Ianto grabbed the bucket and heaved his meager lunch into it. When he caught his breath, Hermione made the bucket disappear and handed him a goblet of water.

He swiped at his face. “I’ve never felt anything like it,” he whispered. “It was hard and… metallic. And it… it _hurt_. It was like a hard drive that had recorded her memories. _Our_ memories. And it was just… spitting them back out, to try to get me onside. It was… twisted and disgusting and horrifying, because I could read the creature’s thoughts.” He let out a sob. “It actually thought that I could be persuaded to be… _upgraded_ with her. With _it_.”

He stood and walked around the chair, turning his back on the Minister and his fellow Aurors, trying to calm himself. A bird landed on the ledge of the building, and he stared hard at it, not hearing Kingsley speaking.

“Ron, go find Draco. We need to be sure that performing legilimency on a cyber mind didn’t do him any harm.” He hesitated, watching Ianto sway on his feet. “And perhaps a calming potion, and something for grieving.”

Ron nodded and disapparated. The others sat quietly, wanting to give Ianto a moment to calm himself. Kingsley watched the young man, regret coiling around his gut like that bloody snake of Voldemort’s. 

Ianto had asked him for help. _Begged_ them for help.

Kingsley knew without a doubt that had he expressed any willingness to help Ianto, the young wizard would have shown them Lisa. The minister doubted that magic could have healed her, but this could have all ended so differently. He silently cursed the political climate in the ministry, and once again wondered why Wolverton’s machinations were often so directly harmful to Ianto Jones.

His thoughts were interrupted when Ianto quite unexpectedly broke out into a run. He sprinted about two dozen steps across the grassy rooftop before vaulting onto the ledge and without hesitation, dove off of the side, his arms reaching out as though to embrace the pavement that awaited him, below.

But Hermione was too fast. She had her wand out before he reached the ledge, and she was able to perform the _levicorpus_ spell before gravity took him out of their sight. She moved him back over the roof and away from prying eyes as he began screaming.

“NO!” he cried out in frustration and despair. He struggled against the spell, and then against Harry and Kingsley when they took hold of him as Hermione released the spell. The only thing that saved either man from being struck by a flailing backhand was how weakened Ianto had become. His last meal had been a single slice of toast three days before, the morning Dr. Tanizaki was due to arrive. He had been too nervous for more. 

Draco and Ron apparated to the scene of Ianto struggling against Kingsley and Harry, with Hermione trying to soothe him. Draco gently moved her out of the way and knelt down in front of Ianto. He quickly helped his friend to drink a calming potion.

“That muggle doctor came and gave him more drugs?” he asked, looking carefully into Ianto’s eyes.

“Yes. It calmed him, for a while. He had just finished his debriefing when…” Hermione gave a soft sob before collecting herself and telling them about the aborted suicide attempt.

“That’s three,” Harry muttered. He looked at Kingsley. “What do we do?”

“Keep him off the bloody roof, for a start,” Draco snarked before turning back to Ianto. He muttered several incantations and read the runes that reflected the results. When he spoke, it was to Ianto. He imagined there had been rather a lot of talking about Ianto in front of Ianto lately, and Draco knew from experience that it was a damned annoying thing to endure. 

“So Ron told me you performed legilimency on the cyber-woman after it took Lisa. You’re showing some inflammation, and that’s not helping in the rational decision-making area.”

“I’m perfectly rational,” Ianto gritted. “You lot just need to let me go.”

Draco sighed, shaking his head. “You say that now, but you’re hurting. I can’t even imagine how badly.”

“Ron told you?” Ianto sniffed.

“He did,” Draco nodded. “And it’s not always going to hurt this much, Nif. I promise. I don’t want you doing something rash, and I’m willing to let you hate me right now, because I think you’ll thank me someday when this isn’t all so raw.”

Ianto did not respond. Draco could tell by how his body had begun to slacken that the calming potion was beginning to take hold. He sighed. “All right. Hermione is going to go buy me a few cases of bottled muggle water, and I’m going to put a calming potion into each bottle. I want you to drink one, every hour or two. I’ll also do some with a dreamless sleep potion.” He looked at Hermione. “I’ll mark those with a ‘D’. I’ll also do one marked with an ‘M’ for morning for the course to heal him from taking his magic in. Once the shock wears off, and you’ve had a bit of time to get your feet back under you, we’ll add in a grieving potion.”

Ianto just stared at Draco, his eyes so dark that the healer could not see his pupils. His expression was flat, showing that Ianto was riding a fine line between feeling so much he was overwhelmed and feeling nothing at all.

“Ianto, I am sorry,” Kingsley said, reaching out and squeezing Ianto’s shoulder. The complete lack of hesitation with which Ianto had jumped had shaken the minister. That had not been a cry for help. It had been a break for freedom. The minister feared he was in very great danger of losing one of his best Aurors if they did not proceed very carefully.

“So am I,” Ianto muttered, hanging his head. “What will my punishment be, Sir?” He sighed. “Someone will have to inform Jack that I won’t be returning to Torchwood.”

“Punishment?” Kingsley blinked. “Ianto, in refusing to assist you we became as culpable for any damage as you. We backed you into a corner, and you acted as you thought you must. Yes, the consequences could have been terrible, but you acted with the best information available to you, at the time. Your only error – and I hesitate to call it an error, as the action was doubtless fueled more by trauma than rationality – was to continue fighting Torchwood after she was lost.”

Ianto looked at Kingsley, his expression one of horror and exasperation. Why was no one willing to hold him accountable for his actions?

Kingsley noted the expression and continued speaking. “I will follow Harkness’ lead here, as this was an alien incident and more within his bailiwick. If Torchwood does not see fit to punish you, I see no point in the Ministry doing so.”

“But you have to,” Ianto protested, his eyes desperate. “I betrayed… _everyone_. You have to do _something_.”

“I am. I’m giving you the same bereavement leave that Torchwood is giving you. Get your head on straight, Jones. For any sins you may have committed, you’ve already paid a far greater price than anyone could expect.”

Ianto hung his head, wondering if the shame might kill him, and rather hoping that it would.

“Let’s get him back downstairs,” Harry sighed.

“I’ll get the water and bring it to you,” Hermione said to Draco.

Draco and Kingsley disapparated. Harry and Ron took Ianto back to his flat, and Hermione went in search of a grocery store.

***

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for hanging in there! "Unfathomable" and "Debriefing" are where this arc bottoms out. It starts digging out, from here.
> 
> Thanks for reading - please kudo and comment! :)


End file.
